The Chapter After
by Bellalyse Winchester
Summary: Written for English class.  Pretty much what it says on the tin; the morning after the last chapter of TKAM. My FIFTIETH FanFiction!


**Written because I've got to write it for Honors English. Still, think I did a fair job-it's the chapter after the ending of the book. Review!**

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><p>In the morning I woke to the invigorating aromas of hot pancakes, diced potatoes, and fried eggs. Looking with sleepy eyes over to Jem's bed, I saw Atticus bowed over him, his head on Jem's pillow and his hand on Jem's chest. Quietly as I could, I crept out of bed and tugged on a shirt and a pair of overalls before leaving the room.<p>

I don't think Cal ever greeted me with a wider smile than the one she wore that day, and it just made me smile to see her so bright in the morning. When I reached the table, I leaned forward, clinging to the tablecloth with outstretched arms and pushing myself onto my toes to get a good whiff of breakfast. Everything was hot and steamy, and it looked as if we had enough to feed a whole army.

"Mornin' Cal," I said, feeling her eyes in my back before she grabbed my shoulder and pulled me down from the table.

"Good morning, Scout." As I turned to face her, I was surprised when she bent forward and lifted me into her arms, burying her face into my shoulder. I in turn hooked my own arms about her neck, resting my head against hers.

The way I figure, if somebody needs a hug, you ought to give them one.

"Scout? Cal?"

At the sound of my father's voice I raised my head and looked purposefully into Calpurnia's eyes. She set me down and we walked hand-in-hand back to Jem and my bedroom, and I remembered dimly the feel of a different hand, the hand of Boo Radley.

"Thank you for my children, Arthur," Atticus had said. He really had saved our lives, and now he was back within his dark prison of a house…and it was actually better this way.

We settled about Jem's bed with something mingling between curiosity and hope, hope that a new day could bring a Jem awake and well. Sitting beside him on his mattress, I took to tugging at a loose piece of string that had stolen my attention. I suppose I imagined the moment that he opened his eyes, he would be just fine and ready to jump out of bed and run out into the street to play, so I was somewhat affronted as to why he would be sleeping in.

"I swear, Scout, sometimes you act so much like a girl it's mortifyin'," he had once said. Who was acting like a girl now, sleeping in so late? As I remembered Atticus's command about judging others, however, I paused. I supposed with what he'd been through last night, he had rights to sleep in.

As he began to finally stir, I bounced up and down, forgetting the string as I bent forward over Jem.

"Atticus, he's wakin' up!" I exclaimed, tugging at my father's sleeve. Calpurnia silenced me with a look deft as a swat on the wrist, but Atticus shared my anticipation.

"Jem?" he asked, his voice soft. "Jeremy?"

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't recall a single time Atticus had ever actually called Jem by his whole name. Even though Jem was half-out, he even seemed to think it was queer; his lip curled a bit, and as his eyes fluttered open he coughed into his sheet before speaking.

"Att—Atticus?" He barely breathed the name, but we all leaned forward to listen. "Atticus…what happened?"

"You took a thumpin'," I offered, climbing forward on the bed so I could sit right beside him. "Mr. Ewell came after us, but he didn't get us. Just your arm."

Jem's eyebrows leaped up at this statement, and he was sitting bolt upright before I had a chance to move.

"My arm!" he howled, looking with dismay at the appendage slung at his front, as though it was a spider that went and climbed up him without his notice. "My arm's broke! It can't be broke, I have to be strong if I can ever play football!"

I could remember all that time ago when he'd first confessed his plans to me. "Goin' out for football next year," he'd admitted, before advising me to stay on good terms with Aunt Alexandra. I supposed now that dream was delayed, if not terminated.

"Hush now," Calpurnia scolded, though there was mirth in her voice as she shared a knowing glance with Atticus. "Jem Finch, that arm of yours will heal up just so long as you keep it in that sling."

"Aw, Cal, you don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly well. Now Scout, you come and help me set the table while Atticus gets Jem about for breakfast."

It was about this time that Aunt Alexandra woke, and she was positively placid. She, Cal and I set the table, and when Cal laid out four places, Alexandra set up another. They shared a look then that I didn't quite understand, somewhere between respect and admiration. It broke as there was suddenly a gentle rapping at the door.

"I'll get it," I volunteered readily, racing off to the front of the house. When I swung open the wooden door, there stood Miss Maudie with a smile on her lips and a large pan in her arms.

"Hey, Miss Maudie," I said as I opened the screen door and let her in. "We're just having breakfast."

"Hello, Scout," she replied, her eyes all full of sympathy and kindness. "How's Jem?"

"He just woke up," I answered. "He's fine, he's just sore on account of his arm's broke and he won't ever get to play football."

"His arm broke?" Maudie gasped, her smile faltering. She recovered quickly, though, shifting the pan to one arm so she could tousle my hair. "You children get yourselves into more trouble than you're worth."

"Who is it?" Aunt Alexandra called from the dining room.

"It's Miss Maudie!" I hollered in reply before turning back to Maudie. "You want to come in? We've got plenty for breakfast."

"Well," she mused as we walked back to the kitchen, "I suppose if there's plenty…"

"Of _course _there's plenty." Calpurnia smiled warmly in greeting to our new guest. "I'll set up another place."

Maudie set her pan on the edge of the table, removing the cover to reveal a beautiful cake with white icing spread evenly over its surface. There were no little cakes; I realized in surprise that I would be receiving a piece from the whole.

"I brought this," she said, looking at it with cheeks growing rosy. "It's not much, I suppose, but I thought I ought to bring something."

"It's lovely, Maudie," Aunt Alexandra said, setting a hand on Miss Maudie's shoulder.

Atticus and Jem entered the room then. Atticus's arm was about Jem's shoulders, and they took adjacent seats at the table.

Aunt Alexandra took the empty seat beside Jem, and Calpurnia took the next seat by her. I sat down beside Cal, and Miss Maudie took her place between Atticus and me. We sat in silence, cramped about the little table, before Jem and I lunged for the food, at which point Atticus spoke up.

"Now Jem, Scout," he said softly. "You aren't forgetting grace, are you?"

I stopped and fell back into my seat quickly, eager to complete prayer and then dig into the magnificent breakfast before us. We took one another's hands with Aunt Alexandra setting her palm on Jem's left shoulder. I paused just a moment, watching Cal and Aunt Alexandra take each other's hands, in surprise. I never thought they held any sort of resentment between them, but that they were so amicable took me aback. Silently I closed my eyes with the others. It was Atticus who spoke the prayer.

"Bless us our food, oh Lord, this that comes from your bountiful harvest. Bless this house, and bless us that we may continue to live and serve you, for all our days to come. Am—"

"And God bless Boo—Arthur—Radley," I put in quickly, opening one eye just to peek at Atticus. His lips drew into a smile, and his head inclined just a touch.

"Yes, Scout. God bless Boo Radley. Amen."

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? Review!<strong>


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